


Peace for you

by Rabentochter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Tony Stark, Bittersweet Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Feels, Forced Prostitution, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Loki (Marvel), Revenge, Secrets, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Violence, helpless Loki (Marvel), not between the main characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25933441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/pseuds/Rabentochter
Summary: The Hunger Games didn't stop when you left them as the victor. The Game only changed. While Loki had been lucky to get away easily, it was Anthony who was regularly invited  back to the Capitol to make the peoplehappy.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 122





	Peace for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NamelesslyNightlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/gifts).



> For **NamelesslyNightlock** because this was your idea in the first place, to turn Tony and Loki into Finnick and Annie ❤️👀

One week ago, Anthony had needed to leave for the Capitol.

One week was seven days long, and seven days were seven days _too much._ At least for Loki. The same went for Anthony, although he never admitted it. Instead, he chose to read the _politely_ phrased letter and then started to pack what he needed this time; his movements always slow but he never reached for something he didn’t need; and Loki looked at the names on the letter _and remembered the others._

If he later on burned the letter – it was the only kind of expressed rage he could allow himself because they may have won the Hunger Games – but opposed to what the Tributes were promised, the Games didn’t end as soon as you left the arena as the _victor._

Anthony had won the games eight years ago, Loki ten. But he’d drawn the better end of the deal because the populace of the Capitol didn’t _like him_ – not after he’d won the Games by manipulating the other Tributes into walking into their death, sneaked up on others only when he was sure nobody saw him coming and he’d get away with the barest minimum of scratches. Loki had played it safe and backhanded.

Anthony had won by playing his role as the naïve team member until he killed them all with a masterful trap. The whole thing hadn't lasted more than three days, and as a result, his Games were still known as the shortest to date.

The people loved Anthony. They loved him so much that they wanted to keep him with them. They wished for him to be forever _theirs_ even when they were aware that he actually was in a relationship with Loki but those commitments had never mattered to the Capitol. The tributes were theirs, and they most likely enjoyed it that Loki had to share his lover with them. Everything was about power and greed – and so Anthony got asked to return because people desired to get _acquainted_ with him.

There had been nothing said in the letter, but Loki still had known what had happened the moment Anthony finally stepped off the train after his first _excursion_. His eyes had been empty and a faked smile had been plastered on his lips – and he hadn’t wanted Loki to touch him, had pretended to be normal and for a few days, Loki had let him have his illusion. There were things one preferred not to talk about and time was needed to process recent events.

Alas Anthony hadn’t done so, instead he’d kept acting as if nothing major had happened, even when Loki saw the marks on his back, the fading bites on his neck.

Loki’s fury at the Capitol had only grown.

Never had the thought crossed his mind that Anthony was cheating on him. Because he trusted him, he knew Anthony wouldn’t do that to him, not voluntarily, that was.

But with long practiced calmness had Loki put Anthony on their couch, made him a drink and asked in a quiet voice if he wanted to talk about it. That he wouldn’t judge _him_.

Loki had been silent as pained words finally fell from Anthony’s lips that were full of hurt, of threats that were Anthony’s daily meal when he was away, fear of what the Capitol would take away from him if he dared to refuse. He had tried, at first. He’d been convinced that it would be better for Loki if he – went along with it _enthusiastically._

What followed then hadn’t been any prettier. When the tears stopped flowing, it was as if a blinding veil had fallen over them, shrouding them in such a darkness that had been more sinister than Loki had dared to think. He’d lived in the hope that –

But it was the Capitol and its people they were talking about here.

It had been long since they’d shown mercy to anyone, their splendid _saviours_ who’d brought them peace that had them shiver in the shadows and become more and more apathetic with each Tribute being sent out, all the blood that was on Loki’s hands and kept him awake at night. The secrets they all held, the wish for everything to stop and to be seen as more than a mere animal at an auction.

_Peace._

Loki had held Anthony tighter against him. He kissed him, whispers of that they were going to be free one day. A promise that this was _wouldn’t break them_.

Because one day, the Capitol would pay for each drop of blood they’d spilled in its name, for each grievance they’d been dealt with for the Greater Good. It would be by either his hand or by someone else’s. Important was that in the end, the Capitol would pay for what they’d forced Anthony to do – that they had turned him into a prized whore, to be available at their beck and call.

But now, the seven days were over once more, and the train stopped at the train station where Loki was waiting for Anthony. The doors opened and Anthony stumbled out, his eyes full of pain and wide. And Loki smiled at him, relief crashing through him in waves as he saw Anthony coming back to him.

“Welcome back home,” he whispered into his lover’s ear and took him into his arms, aware of the cameras that were trained on them, hoping for something… _more._

Anthony smelled wrong. He smelled of expensive perfume, guilt and disgust. A faint whiff of roses.

“Don’t let me leave again,” Anthony whispered back, his voice near to trembling but not quite.

They stood there for a few moments, Loki trying to shield Anthony from the curious glances of the others as good as he could as he gave him the chance to collect himself. A silent curse towards all that were watching them and rubbing themselves off in the knowledge they’d _just_ had one of them in their bed, marked them as _theirs._ His hands clenched around the fancy suit Anthony was in, the soft material almost itching him to tear it away.

Eventually Loki pulled back, his lips sliding over the tanned skin and the neatly trimmed goatee. “Let’s go home.”

Anthony nodded, silent as his tongue had been left with the wolves in homes that had at least three showerheads, words that had been whispered with softness, with a cruel edge, a plead to be merciful. Whatever had needed to be said that enabled Anthony to return to him without greater harm that was already caused.

They walked home, their hands interlaced, the burning knowledge that the cameras were _still_ on them, that they still weren’t alone, that their life wasn’t theirs – and Anthony’s even less so. Only shared taciturnity was truly theirs in the public.

 _One day they will burn,_ Loki swore himself they neared their home. _One day._

He was not an optimistic man by nature, even less so when he had emerged from the Games at the young age of seventeen. His hands had been covered in the blood of twenty-three other people even when he hadn’t killed them _directly._ The Capitol had taken something from him that Loki would never be able to forgive. When he had been forced to _kill_ , only so he could return home, promising himself silently that – he’d tell the boy a few houses over that he liked-liked him. That he wanted – to be with him, because life was too short to hesitate. He’d refused to think about that it could be Anthony the following year who’d have to face the horrors of the Games.

In fact, Loki had avoided that thought, wishing only for some peace and quiet; a fairy tale that he hadn’t been granted to enjoy for long.

Loki had started to hate the Capitol back then. To think that in the beginning, he had hated the Capitol for forcing him into ridiculous clothes but well, he was from District 10 – there wasn’t much they could do with him, could they.

Even back in their home, Anthony was still _quiet_. It scared Loki immensely. After Anthony had been chosen for the Games, Anthony hadn’t stopped being loud and outspoken, his words dripping with veiled insults and warm gushing over the technology he could see for himself at the Capitol. His natural charm, his forwardness, and good looks – it all had helped Loki in finding sponsors for him.

Anthony had won and he’d still been _loud_ – even when his voice had gotten sharper, a new cutting edge to it that Loki hadn’t known on him earlier – and they sought solitude and a way to _forget_ as they stumbled into their bed, clothes ripped away, harsh breaths and silent tears all they’d known for a while.

But since that letter five years ago Anthony had grown quieter in public events than he’d been before. He spoke only when he felt like he had to say something or when he told Loki ‘ _Don’t let me leave again’_. He chose to speak at their home, where the words were less likely to be shared with thousands of strangers.

It had partially become routine that Loki would go into the kitchen to get Anthony a mug of coffee with some extra, while Anthony would take off his shoes and the jacket, or the cloak, or whatever they had forced him into this time. Then they walked up to the bathroom where Loki let warm water stream into the tub, accompanied to the noises of clothes falling with a soft noise to the floor.

There were marks on Anthony Loki didn’t know and yet, he could knew them. They were all the _same_ – all born from the same desire to _have_ , to own; if only for a night, a day, an hour – what did it matter. They had had their hands on Anthony and left an imprint. They had no regrets, not a single ounce of shame was left in their bodies that were filled only with greed and lust. Their decency given away for bags that clinkered with each step as gluttony led their way.

They sat in the tub with Anthony’s face pressed into his neck, his breath quiet but fast and the scent of pine wood slowly washing the other scents away.

Loki pressed short kisses to Anthony’s hair, his hands slowly washing him and cleaning him of the strangers’ touches. The water was warm and he rubbed comforting circles into his skin, unwind muscles with every touch.

It was similar to the blood on Loki’s hands. It wasn’t _there_ but it still left scars one couldn’t wash away.

There were nights Loki had to sprint to the basin to get rid of the red, battling his desire to wash his mouth with soap to be clean from the inside out.

The touches Anthony had to endure they weren’t visible. But Loki knew that for as long as the smell clang to Anthony, it would only remind him of the touches, that they were still there.

So Loki sat there in the water that slowly turned cold, and kept drowning his lover with kisses where he could reach them and washed him until their skins started to get wrinkles.

Only when they had left the bath and were holding each other close, Anthony broke his silence.

Every name that was said, Loki remembered them vividly. These were all names that Loki one would hunt down to their owners and make them pay.

But there were also secrets people had confessed, maybe in a spur of shame, a rare moment where they realised what they were doing. Loki despised them all the more for it.

He kissed Anthony every time he stopped and tried to formulate the sentence, when he told him what the President had done this time, what this nobleman had paid for now and who was trying to climb up the social ranks by ill means.

Because Anthony wanted their secrets – their secrets for his body, that was his payment. And Loki was proud of him for not just giving in and up on his fate but instead trying to use it to his advantage. _That_ was brave, that was what courage was meant to be about and stubbornness and people liked to fall for wide, doe-wide eyes that screamed of wicked innocence. It wasn’t bravery when Thor tried to fight the Peacekeeper and ending up nearly flogged _again_ , when he went into the fields and stole from the harvest there, that was stupidity and a wish to have life ending early.

“I remember them for you,” Loki said in a quiet but furious whisper whenever Anthony was done with one, when his eyes closed in exhausted pain. “And they will _pay_.”

“I know,” Anthony mumbled and his lips searched for Loki’s. “I know.”

Not _once_ did he sound defeated when started to speak. He always sounded strong despite the tremble in his voice, when he pointed at a mark and told Loki who it had been because in the end, it would be good for _something_. One way or the other the Capitol would fall one day and if Loki had to adopt children so their grandchildren could avenge them –

“There’s been a rumour of a storm coming up.”

“What kind of storm?”

“A storm,” Anthony whispered and Loki could feel his grin forming against his cheek, “that will lead us to District 13 and then to the Capitol if we choose to follow the movement.”

He stilled for a moment. This one time he wished for some light so he could _see_ what Anthony was telling him. A storm that would lead them away? His heart started to beat faster. “Is it the kind of storm we need?”

“It is.” A warm hand cupped his jaw.

Loki closed his eyes in the darkness, concentrating on the slow movements. The warm breath against his lips as more words followed.

“There is a chance that this storm will make some people lose their heads.”

“What a fascinating and vicious storm.”

Fingers slid over his cheek, light and warm.

“Me too.” A warm chuckle was breathed against his face, lips were wandering over his face, covering him with light touches that left marks on him –

Loki purred happily, his fingers carding through Anthony’s wet hair. This wasn’t only about getting Anthony free of the touch of others, this was also about Anthony making sure that Loki was still _his_ , that at least they didn’t change, that they were still themselves. That there was a part of them the Capitol didn’t own.

If Anthony wanted to cover him with kisses for that then Loki would let him do that gladly, revelling in each touch, reciprocating in kind.

It was as perfect as it could be under these circumstances.

“Our storm is called Natasha Romanoff,” Anthony continued to tell him while his fingers started to dance with a purpose over Loki. “And she doesn’t know it yet but she suspects. Courtesy of a former mentor from District 1. He passed me when I was on my way back. It seems that your way of handling things is needed.”

“When will we leave?” Loki asked, shivering as Anthony started to kiss his throat, nibbled on the skin there what made Loki whimper with want.

“Over the next few days. I don’t want to risk going back another time.”

“You know that I always have two bags packed,” Loki mumbled and his hands slid down Anthony’s back. “We can leave anytime.”

“I want Rhodey to come with us.”

“I’m sure he can pack a bag within a few minutes,” Loki said, gasping as Anthony licked over his nipple.

“I hope so.”

“I’m sure of that.”

With that Loki urged Anthony up again, pulled him into a kiss that was soft and warm, that made Loki feel like the world outside stopped existing and hoped, that the same sentiment went for Anthony. That they would forget names and secrets for now. Nothing outside of their bed existed.

That they were just two lovers kissing another, making sweet and unhurried love – nothing else. It was only them.

That was what Loki kept thinking while he created new marks and Anthony claimed him as his.

But with Anthony moaning his name and making him sweat and let him only _feel_ – the tremble of strong hands, salt on lips that played with his – he thought that this was the case.

\- ~ –

The Revolution was _fun_. As fun as it could be, of course, with the streets being their new arena and the Games more brutal than before. 

But Romanoff led them forwards, a smile on her lips that did not match the desire for revenge in her eyes. Anthony solved the traps and made new weapons out of them if he could. Thor was punching his way through the armed guards who kept surprising them and Loki?

He had a different duty.

This was all a propaganda and propaganda got sold with catching words and pretty faces. Loki was _both_. He had won his fight with words and manipulations, this time he would win with the words Anthony had given him. So whenever there was a moment of peace and they had found a safe space, Sky would turn on her camera and ask Loki about _secrets_.

“They are not my secrets,” he always said at the beginning, “but I got entrusted with them. It’s time for them to learn to fly like _birds_.” He chuckled.

“It’s no secret that the Capitol is full of lies and rumours but did you know that there are people who like to pretend they are better than they are? Of course, you do, you are clever, aren’t you? And it won’t take you by surprise when I tell you that –“

And here he started to confess a secret, made clear who the villain was, sometimes he didn’t even say the name because circumstances make them recognisable on their own. Each name that fell was a burden being lifted from Anthony’s shoulder, another small victory as they fought off dogs that had multiple heads which tried to stop them from moving on.

_There was Johann Schmidt who had his own private military and wanted to become the new President and who liked to tell what a great man he was and that he was chosen for something better._

The next day they learnt he had had an ‘accident’.

Anthony laughed darkly and kissed Loki with the desperation of a man who’d been saved from drowning.

_There was the man responsible for the security of the President and did you know that someone close to him loved to slit other people up and change their genetics? No? But he does and he calls them “AIM’s Family”, each head was collective on his bookshelves, trophies over trophies._

A day later after a nightly excursion to find food, Loki told Anthony that Killian had fallen down the stairs in his house and there was a flash of peace on Anthony’s face. He didn’t need to say anything more. The red on Loki’s hands lessened.

_Were the people of the Capitol aware that Hela loved to go on a murder spree at night? Because she did and is to this day responsible for all the mysterious deaths on the streets and houses where people had antlers carved into their foreheads._

Loki watched as Anthony smiled as he told the cameras more, his eyes locked with brown eyes that finally glimmered of peace more than emptiness.

_Kaecilius who tortured others when they were abandoned and designed rooms for the President in his house._

After that, Anthony started to make more jokes in the presence of their group – they called themselves ‘The Avengers’ and Loki had never found a title so much more fitting than this one.

When they had the chance, they kissed with an unhurried pace that made Loki’s toes curl, had him shiver in sheer delight at _finally_ delivering what he promised to Anthony through all those years at night when nobody was around to hear them.

_There was the President, of course. Did you think the President was innocent?_

Loki smiled at the camera, the desire for revenge finally being fulfilled and Anthony stood beside Natasha, his eyes shining with a heat that promised Loki more and with his blessing, he continued and destroyed all the goodwill that the people of the Capitol had for President Thanos.

“He killed his family to become the President. A clean massacre in the house, he was the only survivor. Did you ever wonder why only Ebony Maw remained on his side as his trusted advisor all this time? Because Maw helped him to kill them and helped with giving him the image of an innocent boy who got lucky.”

Loki tsked. “And who didn’t fall for that? It was a sad story, perfect to create sympathy in even the coldest heart. He killed his own family, he _kills_ other families for his games. And you enjoy watching the Games, don’t you?”

He tilted his head. “That’s all right. I understand. The Games are brutal, they are violent, and you on your couches needn’t to lift a finger while we’re slaughtering each other, all in the hope to survive this horror. I know that I wouldn’t be _any better_ were I in your place. But would you still support the Games if I told you that for the 75th annual Games – which are meant to be _this year_ – the President planned to let some of you people from the Capitol to participate, too?”

Loki chuckled. “It’s a shame the Revolution is already happening. I would’ve paid to see your blood being spilled on the pavement _for once_.”

The red light from the camera went out.

“It’s truly a shame that the Revolution is now,” Natasha said in a dry tone. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Thor asked with a rough chuckle. “Seeing them stumble around like the fools that they are, the arrogance of believing themselves to be _better_ than the rest of us just because they were born in the right area.”

Loki nodded, his eyes fixed on Anthony.

That was the biggest and most destructive secret he had ever discovered – and it had been when he had been with Maw and had snooped around in his bedroom and found _letters_. Letters, that were never meant to be shown to the public but obviously meant a lot to Maw that he chose not to destroy them.

He walked towards him in slow steps.

“This –“

“Thank you,” Anthony interrupted him. “Lokes, _thank you_. For doing what I couldn’t do, for –“

“No. No,” Loki stopped him. “No.”

“No?”

“I didn’t do it for your thanks, Anthony,” he mumbled and looked into brown eyes that seemed to start to _understand_.

Because this had never been about a ‘thanks’, never. This had all been about getting Anthony revenge where he couldn’t do it on his own and being a help, letting him forget and had Loki keep the words.

“It’s so you can forget them – and this time, for _real_.”

Anthony’s lips crushed to his, warm and too salty, his hands clutching Loki’s outfit and held him close.

“I have,” Anthony whispered as they parted and his eyes shone brightly, “I have forgotten them, Loki.” And he said that with a smirk on his lips, a relief in his posture Loki had never seen on him in all those eight years they had known another that Loki believed him.

He kissed Anthony to share the taste of revenge and he didn’t care that Sky was probably filming them to deliver a message to the people. A silver line at the horizon, a reminder that there were still good things outside and fighting for the end of cruelty.

Tomorrow, they would storm the palace and kill Thanos.

They would go home and share a bath and finally, enjoy the peace they had been fighting for all these years.


End file.
